Behind Closed Doors
by You-drive-me-nuts-miller
Summary: If only Nick had have said something after that first date... And what did they write on those cards?


**Another one of my scenario one shots - more to come! Please review if you like it!**

The rush of air clawing into his lungs was the only sound Nick Miller could hear as he closed the door. Inside his chest, he could feel his heart hammering as if it were trying to escape the bony cage that held it; his mind echoed with the sound of her footsteps as she walked away and her final words, _Goodnight Miller._ A rush of blood began to surge towards his head and caused a ringing in his ears; a mild panic descending. _How had things gone so badly?_

Taking deep breaths, he gradually slowed his breathing into a regular flow and moved over to his bed. Slowly sitting down, he placed his head in his hands and allowed his senses to return to some semblance of normalcy as his mind processed the events of that evening.

Mentally, he scolded himself. _You idiot Miller, you dumb boy. All she wanted was to know how you felt and now you'd blown it. _Wistfully, he reflected on her admission that she too felt something –okay it wasn't exactly put like that but what she had said, and the look in her eyes that evening, had confirmed to him that there was something there. A sickening feeling grew in his stomach at the realization that he had lost his chance.

His mind went back to the moment when they sat on the curb together and the pleading tone her voice had took when she pressed him for an answer; _tell me how you feel._ Why didn't he answer her? Why couldn't he answer her? Reluctant recognition began to wash over him, like a rising tide: It was because he was scared.

* * *

Dazed, she walked towards her bed, placing the bowl of chips and jar of salsa on the small table next to it. She felt the strength it had taken her to walk away from him seep out of her and she sunk, mentally exhausted, onto her bed. The twirling feel in the pit of her stomach waned a little; she placed her hand on her forehead and wiped away the small beads of sweat that were beginning to form upon it.

_What is he doing to me?_ She thought. Shaking her head she tried to remove thoughts of Nick from her mind; no, she had made the right call. Tonight he had proved that he didn't have the guts to talk to her, like a man, and tell her how he felt. These weeks of dancing around each other and rising tension had been exhausting. Exciting, but exhausting.

Flopping onto her back, her arms extended, she looked up towards the ceiling and watched the flickers of light that came through her window from the street outside dance upon it. Tonight had been strange, confusing and ultimately unsatisfying. From a non-date, to a date, to a curb side heart to heart with no culmination - her mind had run the gauntlet of emotion. She thought the tension in the loft with Nick had reached a pinnacle prior to their 'date', but now it was at crisis point. _But if he can't tell me how he feels, how can anything more happen?_ The middle school dance rules she had enacted were as much to protect him as her – she knew he was a little fragile and she also knew they risked falling into something without any acknowledgement of what was happening between them. And that scared her.

* * *

Still fully dressed, an hour later, he was laid back on his bed; his mind reflecting upon everything that had happened that day, with the clarity of the passage of some time. Sitting up he rubbed his smooth shaven face; it still felt weird to him, he preferred a little facial hair. Loosening his tie, he pulled it over his head and threw it to the bottom of the bed. He felt foolish now; _why hadn't he just asked her out properly? Why hadn't he admitted it was a date when she had asked? Why hadn't he told her what was on that damn card? Why, why, why? _The story of Nick Miller's life; regret and retreat, escape from real connections - either in the bottom of a beer bottle or in the dark recesses of his mind.

Standing up, he moved in front of his mirror and began to undo the first buttons of his shirt before he stopped himself and locked eyes with his reflection. The man he saw in the mirror was not the man he wanted to be or needed to be. Running way, hiding, avoiding his feelings and confrontation – it all had to stop.

A swell of confidence began to grow inside of him. Tonight, he was going to play things differently, it was probably too late, but he had to tell her, had to tell her that-

He swallowed and opened the door leading into the hallway.

* * *

She had attempted to move herself and get ready for bed but each time she had made the move her mind filled with more details of the evening. The effort he had made, the fancy restaurant, the champagne… and then it flipped to the other side: denying it was a date, not telling her how he felt, not taking her in his arms and kissing her when they said goodnight…

Abruptly, she sat up on her bed. _Stop it Jess, _she told herself. Stop torturing yourself with what if's and maybes. He clearly wasn't mature enough to take this forward and she needed a man; a man who could be honest with her. Sighing, she unzipped her boots and peeled off her t-shirt to get ready for bed. She was about to toss it in her laundry basket when she heard a soft rapping at the door.

She stopped, turning her head and pausing. There it was again, tap, tap, tap; quiet but definite. She inhaled deeply, picking up the t-shirt she had just removed and draping it across her, covering her modesty. Stepping towards the door, she knew in her heart of hearts who it was. Who else could it be? Her breathing became a little shaky as she reached for the handle and slowly moved the door towards her, revealing at first a flash of white shirt and then the confirmation; her roommate, Nick Miller.

Her lips parted and her breathing became slightly rakish as she stared at him. His white shirt made his tan skin look darker, more dangerous somehow. The buttons of his shirt were half undone, more than when they had said goodnight, revealing a hint of dark hair underneath. Quickly, her eyes flashed to his lips, so inviting –the memory of them on her own making her tingle, and then finally to meet his gaze. Opening her mouth to speak, she was stopped as he quickly stepped towards her and wrapped his arm around her, crashing his lips to hers.

Momentarily time stood still and she was lost. She instinctively reached her arms up and clung to his neck, as his hands slid up her back and dipped her slightly, pressing his body against hers hungrily. Pent up desire urged her on, pushed her to move her hands under his shirt, reach for his belt buckle…

"No, stop," she said breathlessly, placing her palm on his chest and pressing him away, causing the door behind him to slam shut. Shocked, he stared at her unsure what to say, breathing quickly whilst the first flush of bravado faded. "No," she continued, "We can't…" her voice trailed off. She was suddenly aware that she had dropped her shirt in the earlier embrace and a blush spread as she realized she was standing in front of Nick in just a pair of jeans and a plain white bra. Self-consciously, she folded her arms across her chest.

"I, I…" he began.

"I told you Nick, I need to know how you feel. But you can't do that, can you?" her voice began to raise a little, "So you can't just waltz in here and kiss me and expect me to swoon and forget all about that." He continued to stare at her in silence, her words sinking in. "I need a man who can talk to me, tell me how he's feeling. I don't like playing guessing games Nick, I'm too old for that. Just, please, please leave." She turned away from him and started to pick her shirt back up from the floor.

"Jessica-" he began.

"What Nick?" she asked in a slightly acidic tone. She turned back to him and he could see her eyes were a little red and watery. Nick took a step forward and his lip began to quiver as he tried to form the words. "Silence," she said bitterly as she placed the shirt in the laundry basket.

"I'm falling for you Jessica," he blurted out suddenly. She paused and tilted her head. _Did she hear that right?_

"Wha-"

"You are all I think about Jess. I'm crazy about you," he stood, hands in pockets and head slightly dipped as he waited for her response. Jess, was stunned into silence. Fidgeting a little from foot to foot he continued, "Since I've met you my life had not been the same and I can't imagine not having you be a part of it," his voice became quieter as he reached the end of his sentence, "an important part." A tense silence enveloped them.

Taking in a deep breath, she took a step closer to him and took hold of his hand, "Do you really mean that?" she asked in a whisper.

Nodding, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, "Of course I do Jess." She moved her arm to his waist and felt the warmth of his body through his white cotton shirt.

"So, what did you write on those cards? I'm confused why…" she shook her head.

"What did you write, Jess? I don't understand Russell's reaction, unless-" She cut him off by breaking free of his embrace and rummaging around in the top door of her dresser. He watched her retrieved a small, lined paper pad and tear off two sheets and collect two pens.

"I have an idea," she said, handing him a sheet of paper and a pen, "Let's re-do this. Let's write what we want, what we said or should have said. Try it again."

"Okay," he said and moved to sit on the edge of her high set and heavily cushioned bed, he picked up a book from her table to rest upon. It was an old looking book, a little worn and faded, the spine read 'Pride and Prejudice'. Turning the book flat, he quickly filled the page with four words in large, chunky writing. Raising his eyes he saw her leaning against the dresser, a look of concentration on his face. For the first time, he noticed how few clothes she was wearing and he felt a wave of heat rush over him. He couldn't believe how gorgeous she was. Then he began to feel nervous, what was taking her so long?

It felt like hours later to Nick, but in reality it was mere seconds, when Jess walked over to him and held out the folded note. Simultaneously, he reached out his own note and their eyes fixed upon each other as the papers changed hands. Calmly she joined him on the bed, sitting a few feet away and looked down at the paper in her hand. She giggled a little and turned to face him, "This is silly," she said, "Let's just throw these away, you've told me how you feel and I-" He reached out and placed a hand on her knee.

"No, c'mon," he said, giving her leg a small squeeze.

"Okay," she said. Placing her thumb inside the folded paper she flipped it over and took in the four, short words._ Boyfriend, with the rewards. _A smile sprung up on her face as she read his words; she hadn't really known what to expect but this was surprising – he saw this as something potentially real. He was putting himself out there, taking a risk; she didn't think Nick Miller took risks. She looked up at him; he was still regarding the folded paper, turning it nervously in his hands. "Nick, you don't have to read it if you don't want to."

Nick did want to read it, but he was scared. He had just made more of a declaration to Jessica than to any other woman since Caroline and his heart was still bruised from the outcome of that relationship. What if she didn't want a relationship? What if she just saw this as a flirtation? Cautiously he lifted the paper and read her message. He had to read it twice to take in its full meaning. _More than friends. Could be really something._

His eyes quickly flashed to hers, the understanding that they both knew what the other had written was unspoken yet known. A smile began to lift at the corners of his mouth, slowly brightening his face before reaching his eyes. "Do you mean this?" he asked.

"Of course Nick," She moved closer to him so their hips met and looked up at him through her dark lashes, "I mean I still don't know what's going on here. I've never been in this situation before. But I want to find out."

Relief flooded through Nick's body. "I don't know what this is yet either Jess. But I think it'll be a hell of a lot of fun to figure it out."

"Oh really?" she asked flirtatiously.

"Oh really," he echoed, a dangerous edge to his voice that cut through her like a hot knife through butter.

"Well, we aren't going to figure it out overnight…"

"True," he replied moving his hand to her bare shoulder.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, in barely a whisper. He moved closer to her until she could feel his warm breath upon her chest and neck.

"This," he said simply. Gently his free hand reached and moved behind her neck, rubbing it gently. He looked into her large, blue eyes, seeing the silent permission she gave, as she held her breath waiting for his next move. Swallowing, he tilted her head to one side and moved his lips to her neck, layering warm, soft kisses down its length. As his hand worked its way into her curls, her own arms encircled his waist. She arched her back as his kisses made her tingle with desire and she let out a low, soft moan.

Gently, he began to tilt her back onto the bed, his body lying across hers, smothering it. She enjoyed the sensation of his weight pressing her into the mattress as his mouth continued to work its way down her body and across her chest. His hands wandering as he did so. It felt so good. Jessica couldn't have imagined this moment. Here was Nick: grumpy, angry, bad at life Nick Miller making her feel like she hadn't been touched in years. She felt so hot and bothered she had to remind herself she was still mostly clothed. If this is like this, she thought, what will the rest be like?

Feeling Jessica Day's body in his hands was like nothing he could have imagined. And he had imagined this moment, in every possible permutation. She had filled his mind for weeks now since that first kiss; he had fed on the memory of the feel of her in his arms. But the reality was so much more thrilling.

Their bodies seemed instantly in sync; there was no awkwardness, no breaks. Wordlessly she had pulled his lips back to meet hers, covered them in her own hot and urgent kisses. Impatiently, she had pulled his white shirt over his head, not waiting to release the buttons. She delighted in the feel of his hot skin touching hers. She was gone from that moment on.

* * *

He moved her hair away from her neck as they rested on top of Jess's bed. The clothes they wore and the bed's comforter and cushions were all scattered about the floor haphazardly. Her hair was tangled and damp, her heart still racing a little. She could feel his own heart rapping against his chest. They both breathed slowly as tiredness enveloped them.

"I think it's safe to say that that changes everything," she said quietly.

"I think we already changed everything Jess," he replied, placing a small kiss on her cheek and wrapping his arm tightly around her.


End file.
